


I Like My Coffee (And I Like You)

by Schmuzz



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Celebrity Crush, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Michael being a fan of trashy CW type TV shows is canon, Michael tries very hard to not look like a crazy fanboy, Myan Week 2018, Pining, and it works Too Well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-06-27 16:06:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15688806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schmuzz/pseuds/Schmuzz
Summary: The only thing that cheers Michael up after a week of college classes and long shifts at the coffee shop by his campus is watching a trashy CW show and ogling the eye candy, a brooding side character played by actor Ryan Haywood. Lindsay teases him over his little infatuation, but he doesn't care; people crush on celebrities all the time - it's not like you're ever going to meet them, anyway.And then he gets a new regular.





	1. Be Cool

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this au was super fun to write - coffee shop/bakery aus are a staple, but writing one always seemed hard because there's no Drama, no Mystique. So I decided to mix in a bit of celebrity!Ryan to make it fun ;)
> 
> Also I've already completed this fic, I just thought I'd split it into sections, so don't expect a long wait between updates!

Michael stared longingly at the clock that hung above the espresso maker. His afternoon shift was dragging - not because there wasn’t a steady stream of college students and professionals that consistently stopped by for a pick-me-up or a place to get some work done, but because it was Thursday. Which meant that as soon as he finished closing, he had to rush back to his dorm and drag Andy down on the couch with him for the next episode of Monstrorum. 

“Michael, espresso?” Lindsay asked, reaching for a cup he still held limply in his hand. “Stop daydreaming about that vampire guy for like, five minutes.” Lindsay was a fellow student at the nearby campus, and the two had become fast friends once they started working together. She had never been that interested in Michael’s current guilty-pleasure-show, but she would still watch the occasional episode if only to have another topic of conversation to go off of when they pulled their shifts together. That, and to be able to tease Michael mercilessly about his crush on one of the actors. 

Which, okay. Michael had long been a fan of TV shows with nebulous quality. And by that he meant any CW show with a supernatural element to it. Before this show came out, he was a loyal Vampire Diaries fan. He had boxsets and t-shirts and everything. He was already used to getting a side-eye from people when he admitted what shows he kept up on in his downtime, so he doubly refused to be shamed just because one of the ensemble cast members of his current fixations happened to be ridiculously handsome,  _ and  _ played one of those above-it-all vampires who maybe might help the main detective duo - provided he felt like it, or they did a favor for him. 

Said character also tended to wear leather pants and wander around without a shirt, but hey, a bit of eye candy never hurt anyone, right?

He rang up the next customer, trying to look unbothered by the fact that Lindsay was able to read him like a book. “Listen,” he said, passing another cup over for her, “he’s a great actor.”

“You mean he has a sexy, deep voice and he’s half naked like, half the time.”

“It’s definitely less than half the time. Sadly. And Felix is like, an anti-hero, it’s cool.”

“Yeah, and the actor is an openly gay nerd who talks about how much he likes dogs and anime on his twitter. Did that body pillow come in off of redbubble yet?”

“Fuck off,” Michael said, weakly. Lindsay knew him too well. That was the trouble with having friends - all they did was roast you for your stupid teenage girl aligned interests. He knew it was a ‘dumb’ show. It was basically a routine mystery drama with ghosts and demons and witches instead of a CSI cast. Some of the actors could be better, the special effects were laughable most of the time, it wasn’t anything special. But he liked it - it was one of the few things he had to look forward to between the piles of homework and his dismal bank account and the way his feet ached after making iced coffee for eight hours a day. If he wanted to relax with some public network eye candy, he was totally entitled to it.

After three long, dragging hours, he was home, shovelling chips into his mouth while the season three premiere rolled along. Alessa, one of the supernatural detectives, had just been revealed to be a descendant of Alistair Crowley, who had actually been a demon, and naturally the string of murders she and her partner Tyler had been trying to solve were revealed to have been started by a coven of witches using black magic to try and bring Crowley back - using Alessa as a vessel. They had managed to stop that, obviously, but now that Alessa’s demon bloodline was found out by the agency they both worked for, they two of them decided to go off the grid until they managed to exorcise any demonic essence out of Alessa. 

After a dramatic chase scene with some other agents tasked with bringing Alessa in, they decided to beg their sometimes helpful friendly neighborhood vampire, Felix, for a place to stay. 

Felix opened the door to his home, leaning casually on the doorframe. He had black liner smudged around his eyes, various rings and necklaces glinting in the dim light of the scene. Tight jeans and a half buttoned silk shirt completed the look as he eyed Alessa and Tyler with a pleased twist of his mouth, a mischievous glint in his blue eyes. 

Michael swallowed. Andy didn’t notice. 

The rest of the scene played out - Felix swanning back into the house, pouring them all a drink as Tyler and Alessa shifted, uncertain and impatient. Felix had always been written as a flirt - he tipped Alessa’s head back with a finger under her chin, teasing her about her newly found demonic heritage, before placing a hand on Tyler’s chest, sending them both a glance before moving past them and picking up an old tome with some helpful information. He offered them both rooms in his home provided they go out and find some other book from the same collection, which of course belonged to an old lover of his that he was too good to show up and see himself, magnificent bastard he was. The rest of the episode played out - and Michael may have been secretly pleased when the old flame was shown to be a man this time - and it ended with Tyler and Alessa having a heartfelt conversation, the eternal will-they-or-won’t-they coming up in their private interactions with one another. 

“Solid first episode,” Andy supplied as the credits popped up.

“Yeah - yeah for sure.” Michael pulled out his phone and scrolled through twitter. There were some people liveblogging the show, and there were more than a few screenshots of Felix leaning in that doorway, devil-may-care attitude and sensuous outfit. He glanced at the other end of the couch, but Andy was absorbed in his own phone.

Michael saved one of the screenshots - it had been slightly edited, the colors a tad brighter, Felix’s eyes shining even more than before - and made it his home and lock screen.

Fucking sue him, okay?

 

-

 

That Monday, Michael was more concerned about the upcoming term paper he had been procrastinating on. He wasn’t as distracted as he had been on Thursday, even if his mind was still racing between the number of references he needed to get and what to write for his thesis statement. He had kept his head down, just processing orders on autopilot, for the past fifteen minutes. He only looked up when the current wave of customers finished, and he took out a cloth from his apron and began wiping down the counter. He barely glanced up again when the door opened, a lone man walking through the door.

Michael’s hand stuttered before his mind realized who he was looking at.

It was him. Felix - no, the actor, rather. Ryan Haywood. In his coffee shop. Approaching the counter. Looking right at him.

His eyes were even bluer in person. 

“Hi there,” Ryan said. His voice was - deep. Sort of. Normal deep, though. Not like on the show. Michael managed a nervous smile, shoving the cloth back into his apron’s pocket. What could he do? He was tempted to ask for an autograph - maybe a picture together? But, no. He was in his work uniform. He probably looked gross - and the poor guy probably got bombarded with fans any time he went somewhere. Okay, maybe not  _ all  _ the time, but more often than a non-actor person. He obviously just wanted some coffee, or something. Maybe it wasn’t even Ryan. It just looked like him. “Long day?” the other man gently prompted. Since Michael had just been staring at him for the past minute, like an idiot.

“Oh, yeah,” Michael let out a light peal of laughter. “It’s just college stuff. Term papers, you know.”

“Oh, believe me, I remember those days. First year?”

Michael turned red. “Junior, actually. But I worked for a few years before starting. And I’m still working, but - not full time, obviously.” 

“Sorry - I didn’t mean to say you looked  _ young. _ ”

“I mean I am, kind of, right? I know I have a baby face.” Maybe-not-Ryan smiled. It wasn’t smug or self-assured. But it was kind. And - nice. 

“It suits you,” was all he said. Michael’s slowly receding blush flooded his cheeks once more. Which was stupid. Saying a baby face suited him wasn’t a compliment, was it? It sounded like one, coming from Ryan, but Michael imagined his standards were especially low when it came to  _ him. _

“Thanks,” he squeaked out. “Um, so, what can I get you?”

“Just a large hot coffee.”

“Anything to eat?” Ryan cast a cursory gaze over at the pastry display. 

“Hmm, I probably shouldn’t…” He had the look of someone who definitely wished he  _ could,  _ though.

“I personally love the chocolate chip cookies,” Michael suggested. “I put them in there not even an hour ago. They’re probably still gooey on the inside.” 

“Hmm… Alright, you sold me.” Ryan pulled out his wallet. “I’ll take both to go, please.”

Michael was a tad disappointed he wasn’t staying - he wasn’t going to try and snap pictures of him like a creep, obviously, but - it would have been nice to, you know, glance over, and see him sitting in the corner of the room. Oh well. “Name please?” 

“Ryan,” Even though he had known it was him, Michael’s heart thumped at getting a confirmation that he really was getting  _ Ryan Haywood _ coffee. And that he had upsold him a cookie. One of his cookies. He wrote his name on a hot cup, passed it down the line, and rang Ryan up. He gave him his change, and went over to get the best looking cookie he could find. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ryan put the rest of the cash he had given back in the little tip jar on the counter. It was probably not even five dollars. He was still felt like he was going to swoon and fall over. 

He passed the bagged cookie over to Ryan and gave him a smile. “Enjoy the rest of your day,” he said. Which he always said to anyone who came in, but this time he really  _ meant  _ it. 

“Thanks, you too.” A moment later his name was called - it was just a cup of coffee, didn’t exactly take long to put together. Ryan took the offered cup from the counter, went off to the side to add copious amounts of cream and sugar to it, before walking out the door, down the street, out of sight. 

Michael hunched over the counter, breathing deeply.

“Who was that, your ex?” His coworker asked. He let out a desperate laugh.

“Sure,” he said, voice cracking. “Small world, huh?”


	2. Not a Date

So. He had met Ryan Haywood. He didn’t wear eyeliner and leather pants in real life, but he was still handsome, and probably one of the most polite customers he had ever gotten since he started working here. Two ships passing in the night, a magical moment that would never happen again - it didn’t stop Michael from fantasizing about running into Ryan at Comic Con or something, and of course Ryan would remember him, the baby-faced barista he had tipped that one time, and they’d follow each other on Twitter, and maybe -

Ryan showed up the next fucking day. Michael almost had a heart attack.

“You again?” he said involuntarily. Because he was a dumbass fuck idiot.

Ryan chuckled. It was a little squeaky, it was  _ adorable.  _ “You remember me?”

Michael shrugged, his heart still pounding under his apron. “Guess you made a good impression,” he managed to say.

“Your cookie made a good impression on me, actually. That’s why I’m here. And this is the closest coffee place that isn’t a Starbucks.”

Michael didn’t comment on the cookie thing. Because otherwise he might explode. Instead he ventured; “Not a fan?”

“They’re more crowded - and kind of pricey, for what it is.” Michael didn’t bring up the fact Ryan had tipped him way more than what Starbucks coffee cost yesterday. 

“Yeah, I hear you,” he said instead. “So - what would you like today?”

“I’ll take another large hot coffee - did you make anything today?”

“Today? Oh,” He glanced at the various pastries. “Let’s see, we made some scones this morning…”

“But did  _ you  _ make them?” Ryan pressed. “I trust your baking abilities.” Michael didn’t have the heart to tell Ryan most of the stuff they sold came from premade dough. He just put them on a cookie sheet and put them in an oven. 

“Well… I do have this really good lemon poppyseed cake.” He pointed it out. “I think we have leftover icing in the fridge if you want some added.” 

“Would you?” Ryan almost had a starstruck look in his eyes. 

“Sure - um, your name’s... Ryan, right?” he asked. He knew, of course, but he had impulsively decided that Ryan could never know the truth. After all, who would trust an obsessive fanboy to give the object of their affections a treat covered in white icing? He wouldn’t.

“It sure is,” Ryan glanced down at his name tag. “Michael.” 

Michael busied himself with opening the little fridge under the counter, getting the bag of icing, and hiding his ferocious looking blush from Ryan. 

On his break, he texted his boss about the possibility of adding in a few different pastries into their rotation. When asked why, he just cited ‘consumer demand’. 

 

-

 

It had been two weeks, and nearly every day, Ryan had come in, on his way to this or that - script readings? Interviews? Regular people stuff like doctor’s appointments? Some days he would insist on only getting a coffee. Michael didn’t know why, considering the amount of sugar he dumped into his drink was about the same as one of the cookies or cupcakes or brownies he picked out, anyway. Ryan very obviously had a bad sweet tooth, and Michael was maybe taking too much pride in making Ryan cave into it. It was cute, the way he hemmed and hawed over what to pick, always complimenting Michael on what a good job he did. Michael even tried to time his baking so he could just be pulling out a tray of pastries as Ryan walked through the door. He still watched  Monstrorum \- still drooled over the scenes with Felix in them - but they paled in comparison to seeing Ryan in person for five, ten minutes a day. He was always friendly, always tipped, always seemed happy to see him. He had gone from dreading work to getting to his shift early, every time. His boss even commented on his work ethic one time when they were both working together on a shift, and offered if he wanted a manager position over the summer. 

So things were good. Great, amazing, wonderful.

And then he and Lindsay had a shift together when Ryan walked in.

None of his coworkers, as far as he knew, watched  Monstrorum besides the two of them. He had done a decent enough job of keeping up the facade that he was just a regular guy and not a lovestruck fan. But Lindsay could tear that down in an instant - either asking for an autograph and scaring Ryan off, or even worse, telling him how much Michael  _ loved his work. _ He glanced at Ryan and Lindsay in quick succession. Luckily she was still making some lattes for a group of college students on the other side of the counter. He was safe. For now.

“Hey, there,” he managed, stomach twisting in knots in a way that he hadn’t felt since the first time he saw the celebrity in front of him.

“Hey Michael, how’d that biology test go?”

“Oh - yeah, it was… okay. I mean, I passed, but science really isn’t my thing. I don’t know. I might need a tutor. I passed that forensics exam with flying colors, though.”

“Well that’s just like, CSI: Biology. It’s more fun if there’s dead bodies involved, I guess.”

Michael laughed. “Creepy, but true. What can I get you today?” 

“Just coffee, today, the usual.”

“You sure? I have these really good cupcakes - buttercream frosting.”

Ryan groaned. “I would but - I think I’ve gained some weight since I started coming here.” Michael couldn’t tell, but Ryan the actor had a habit of wearing baggy jeans and old graphic t-shirts, and today he even had a baseball cap keeping his dirty blonde hair out of his face. It was a complete change from the dramatic, tight-fighting garb of his character. 

“You look fine,” Michael shot back, trying to make the compliment sound neutral and, you know, not full of yearning. 

Ryan chuckled good-naturedly. “Thanks, but the scale doesn’t lie. We can’t all have the metabolism of a twenty-four year old.” He meant him. Michael may have let his age slip since Ryan wasn’t even thirty yet, and part of his delusion-filled mind had wanted Ryan to know he wasn’t jailbait in case - 

“How about we split it? Half a cupcake, half the calories?” He meant it as a joke, but Ryan’s eyes slid back to the appetizing cupcakes sitting artfully on their tray. 

“...Maybe. I’d have to eat it here, though.” 

Michael swallowed, and glanced around. The group of college students had left, the place was mostly empty - Ryan never came at a busy time. He had also never stayed, but today he was offering. 

He turned to Lindsay, who was rinsing out a blender she had been using. “Linds,” he said, “mind if I take my fifteen now? I have half a cupcake to eat.” She glanced up, looking between the two of them, and smiled. Fuck. She knew. She knew and was going to say  _ something.  _

“Sure, have fun,” she said, turning back to the little sink. Michael blinked. 

“Uh… okay,” he started. “You go sit down, I’ll bring your drink over.” 

“How much do I owe you?” Ryan asked, reaching for his wallet. Michael was still looking at Lindsay, as if at any moment she’d turn around and announce to Ryan how Michael was obsessed with the vampire he played on TV.

“It’s on the house,” he said, distractedly, and reached for two ceramic coffee cups. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Oh! Um, thanks, if you insist.” Michael took off his apron and hung it on a hook nearby. He poured two cups of coffee, cut the cupcake in half, and carried it all out on a tray, stopping to load Ryan’s cup with sugar and creamer. He placed it all carefully on the table between them. Ryan was turned to the side. Lindsay could still look at him, but only part of his face. Maybe that was good enough? 

Ryan, of course, was totally ignorant to the panicked thoughts running through Michael’s head. “Real cups, huh? Fancy.” He picked up the not-black cup of coffee. “Is this one mine?” When Michael nodded in response, he took a careful sip. “This is pretty good.”

“I’m glad,” Michael said, taking a seat. “I dumped half the sugar bowl into it, you know.”

“Only half?” 

Michael sipped at his own coffee. It was still a little too hot, but he needed to do something with his hands. He was sitting down. Next to Ryan. What the fuck. His mind raced to think of something he could do or say. “So,” he managed. There. Ball was in Ryan’s court, now.

“So,” Ryan said right back. Damnit.

“Usually you don’t stick around,” Michael said, “day off?” His brain was on autopilot. All he could think to do was keep the questions pointed at Ryan. Most people liked to talk about themselves, right? Maybe he could pretend he was interviewing him? That was a fantasy that occured semi-regularly. 

“Oh, yeah, I guess. I just have some dry-cleaning to pick up, and I have to go to the grocery store at some point… Boring stuff. That’s usually what I’m doing, to be honest.”

“Oh, really? You’re always swanning in and out of here. I figured your job was something glamorous.” Fuck, why’d he say that?

Ryan glanced away, a bashful smile on his face. “Well, it’s just seasonal work, so right now I’m not doing much of anything. I’m kind of bored, actually.” 

“Bored enough to talk to me?”

Ryan sipped at his coffee. “You’re not boring,” he said easily, like it was the truth. 

“You’re right, making cold brews is the pinnacle of human achievement.” Ryan snorted.

“Not that. You’re funny. I like talking to you; you’re nice without being overbearing. Some  days I’m just trapped in my own world, it’s nice to, you know, get out. Talk to people.”

“Eat their desserts.”

The word seemed to jog Ryan’s memory and he carefully picked up one half of the cupcake. “Exactly,” he said. He devoured the thing in two bites, somehow keeping his mouth free from crumbs. He let out a pleased hum, sucking some buttercream frosting from his thumb. Michael watched the movement, then tried to look like he hadn’t been. “That was really good. Have you ever thought about like, baking? Full time?”

“Oh, um, I don’t know if I could wake up at three in the morning to make bread every day, you know? And doing cakes for weddings and birthdays? Dealing with people?” He shivered. “Nightmare.”

Ryan laughed. “You deal with people here every day!”  
“But not on their _wedding day,_ Ryan,”

“It could be their wedding day, you just wouldn’t know.” 

“I thought you got, like, a glow.”

“That’s pregnancy, I think.” 

“Oh.” Michael took a long, drawn out sip from his coffee. “Well, I guess I’m not an expert in either pregnancy or weddings.” Ryan put an arm on the table, resting his chin in his hand. He was staring at Michael - not that he hadn’t been before, but he leaned forward slightly, and those bright blue eyes were now locked onto him. 

“So, you’re not seeing anyone?” Michael blinked. “Since you just said weddings weren’t your - thing,” he added quickly.

“I’d be worried if someone was an expert at weddings. Unless you were a wedding planner, that kind of implies that you can’t keep a marriage together. But, uh, no, I just study, work, sleep. And sometimes I try to like, I don’t know, play Pokemon Go and watch TV.” 

“Any good shows?” Michael bit his lip.

“Always Sunny in Philadelphia? Westworld. You know…” He shrugged.

“Always Sunny is good, from what I’ve seen, yeah. I feel like I haven’t been able to keep up on TV as much as I’d like.”

“Not even now? On your… vacation, or whatever?” 

Ryan laughed. “No, not even on my vacation. Or whatever. Most of my off time is just prep for when I’m back to work, I guess?” Michael wondered, if he asked point blank what Ryan’s job was, would he get a straight answer? But he honestly didn’t want to find out. It would break the casual side of their interactions, he was sure. He sent a glance over his shoulder, back to the counter, and caught Lindsay staring at them. Hard.

He swallowed.

“Does your coworker need you back?” Ryan asked.

“Uh… maybe.” Ryan pushed the little dish towards him. 

“Better load up on sugar and carbs before getting back to work then, right?” 

“Yeah, right.” Michael shoved the cupcake in his mouth which much less finesse compared to Ryan. Mostly so he could go back to his post and avoid Ryan and Lindsay interacting at all. 

“Well, I wouldn’t want to keep you. People in need of a caffeine fix are vicious.” Michael swallowed the rest of his coffee, trying to work the bit of pastry down his throat. He probably looked like an idiot. Ryan finished his drink like he was having tea with the Queen or something, all proper and relaxed, and stood up. Michael watched as Ryan gathered up the dishes and walked them over to a small bin by the trash. What a fucking gentleman. Michael was going to lose it. 

He at least managed to stand up by the time Ryan wandered back over. “Thanks for spending your break with me. Are you sure you didn’t mind?” 

Michael waved his hand. “No, no - you’re my favorite customer, how could I say no to you?” 

Ryan gave him a warm smile. “Next time I’m buying, then. I insist.” They stood there for a moment, before Ryan continued. “Well, I’ll see you later, have a good rest of your day, Michael.”

“You too,” He watched Ryan walk out the door before slinking back to his post.

He was still trying to retie his apron when Lindsay descended upon him like a zoo lion that had missed the morning feeding. “Who was that?”

“Uh… a guy.” 

“A hot guy. You knew him? Is he your secret boyfriend?”

Michael blinked. So… did Lindsay not recognize him? Was it the hat? She never watched the show that closely, especially compared to him… “Uh. He’s just a regular. Been coming in for a while and we started talking. He’s nice.”

“So you’re dating?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“No, really. Like. That was a date.”

“It wasn’t a date - it was just - uh, a not-date!”

“You took your break time to hang out with a customer and split a cupcake that  _ you  _ paid for.”

“He’s nice,” Michael tried to explain.

“He was looking at you with bedroom eyes.”

“He’s a good listener.”

“He kept smiling at you.”

Michael shrugged, walking over to the sink to wash his hands. “Maybe he thinks I’m funny.” 

Lindsay followed him, of course. “He said he was going to buy next time.”

“He just said that to be polite!”

“You -”

“Excuse me!” An older woman waved her arm. “Can I get a large iced coffee?” Lindsay glanced at Michael in a very ‘this is not over’ look and walked over to her side of the bar, pulling out a large plastic cup from where they were stacked. Michael finished dried his hands and wandered over to the register, ringing the customer out. 

“Sorry about that…” he said. The lady was on her phone, waiting for the other end to pick up with an impatient look on her face. She shoved her card in the reader and left without looking at Michael. Not the nicest rescue ever, but he was happy to have it. And the rest of the shift passed with a steady influx of customers, leaving Lindsay little room to demand detail of Michael’s apparent love life. Which was stupid as hell, anyway. Ryan was a semi-famous actor, who maybe wasn’t recognized by casual showgoers like Lindsay because the lack of leather pants and eyeliner really is a night and day effect, which thank God, but he was still an actor.

Moreover, Ryan was charming, and sweet, and funny. His laugh was adorable, his eyes were full of warmth, he liked to ask Michael about his day because that was the sort of guy he was. He probably made best friends with whoever worked at the dry cleaning place and taught him pilates or whatever the fuck he did at the gym. It didn’t mean anything. Of course Michael’s brain was quick to interpret every random act of kindness on Ryan’s part as a sure sign they were deeply in love, but that was because he was a starstruck idiot. So he had gotten into the habit of pushing those thoughts down as soon as they surfaced. He didn’t need Lindsay trying to bring those fantasies back up again. 


	3. The Thing About Thursdays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done! I hope you all enjoy it :)

Lindsay was working the afternoon shift with him, thank God. Thursdays always took forever, so he was smiling her way as soon as she breezed through the door.

Once she got behind the bar, she greeted him with a, “Yo, you know what tonight is?”

Michael blinked. “Thursday?”

“Duh. And what show is having its season finale tonight?”

“I thought you didn’t watch that anymore,” Michael said, scooping out cookie dough and placing it on lined baking sheets. He was able to work a full shift on Thursdays, whereas Lindsay’s biology major meant way more labs - and more half shifts for her. Which also meant, except that one terrifying time, she didn’t sit in on those moments when Ryan came in to order something. Small blessings. “Were you secretly catching up?” 

“I read the wikipedia summaries. It’s not like it’s War and Peace, it’s not hard to get.”

“It’s  _ art, _ ”

“Whatever - Anyway, we gotta make a night out of it. Make your riot punch, I’ll bring some snacks -”

“You wanna get drunk?”

“Thirsty Thursday, bitch.”

“I have class on Friday!” Lindsay waved her hand. “And work, too!” 

“You’ll be fine,” she said, charming smile plastered on her face. “So that’s a yes, right?”

“Like you’d take a ‘no’ from me, anyway. Andy would end up letting you into our dorm no matter what.”

“Exactly.” Michael wasn’t displeased. It wouldn’t be the first Friday he’d gone through with a hangover; it probably wouldn’t be the last, either. “Maybe you should invite your boyfriend.”

“My what?”

She rolled her eyes. “That guy from last week.” 

Michael swallowed, shoving the cookies into the small oven and washing his hands. “Oh. Him. Well he’s not my boyfriend and I’m definitely sure he has better things to do than sit around and watch Monstorum,” he said. It wasn’t a lie, either. He was sure Ryan  _ did  _ have more important things to do than watch his own show.

He wondered, then, not for the first time, if the show was being shot around town without him knowing about it. Somehow he couldn’t picture Ryan living in a small city more known for college football than art or film or whatever cosmopolitan stuff that L.A. and New York had to offer. 

Another, unpleasant thought came right after; if Ryan was just here for filming, wouldn’t he be leaving soon? He glanced at the clock; Ryan never came this late, so it was safe to say he was off doing something else - or he had already packed up and moved. He didn’t even say goodbye if he had - which, why would he? 

“What’s wrong?” Lindsay asked. “You look like I spoiled the finale for you or something. Do you seriously not want me to come?”

“No, not that.” He was patting his hands dry as he talked. “Just not looking forward to tomorrow, now that I know what’s in store.”

 

-

 

“Okay, this CSI group for monsters -”

“The Bureau,” Andy and Michael corrected Lindsay in unison.

“-  is secretly run by God now?”

“No, some of the higher-ups have been possessed by angels, who are going behind God’s back because they’re trying to eradicate all the non-human entities on Earth,” Andy said, before shoving a fistful of Doritos into his mouth. .

“Why?”

“Because that’s the plotline this season,” Michael said dryly. He was a little drunk. More than a little. “I thought you read the  _ plot summaries _ .”

“Eh, I skimmed.” 

Michael swore under his breath, and took her glass of riot punch to drink for himself - since he had emptied his glass and was too preoccupied to get back up. Not just because it was the finale, either. But - as Andy had explained to Lindsay, the human-disguised angels were rampantly attempting to destroy every monster they came across. Including Alessa, who still had demonic heritage within her and was trying to channel said powers to put a stop to the pseudo-righteous killings. It was so dire that Felix - who looked as handsome as ever - had reconciled with his old, vampire lover in order to help her. 

Felix’s lover was a more professionally dressed man with dark hair and dark eyes; he had been seen a handful of times throughout the season, always in a bespoke suit looking like he was too old for Felix’s antics and verging-on-sinful attire. But they had also begun to sort out their differences, and two episodes ago they were shown having a date together - before Alessa and Tyler interrupted them with the whole ‘Angels have infiltrated the Bureau’ bombshell. The episode before the finale even had them officially teaming up  _ and  _ getting back together, sharing a heartfelt kiss in the doorway of Felix’s house. It had taken quite a bit of self control to not react to that while Andy sat next to him. 

“Felix’s boyfriend is cute,” Lindsay supplied. He and Felix were drawing runes on the floor in Felix’s living room to help Alessa’s demonic side awaken in such a way that she could control it, and use it to fight off the Angels that had been tracking them all down. 

“ _ Felix _ is pretty cute,” Michael grumbled. He had to stay by his man, right? Even before meeting Ryan, he was always vocal about his favorites. 

Lindsay gasped suddenly. “Oh shit - that guy at the coffee shop!” Michael’s jaw clenched.

“What guy?” Andy asked.

“Michael went on a date with some guy at work - he took his break just to drink coffee and split a cupcake with this older guy. Super hot - he looks sort of like the single dad version of Felix.” She pointed at the screen, before whirling to face Michael. “No wonder you liked him!”

“He - I -” Michael was tempted to correct Lindsay - she was apparently face blind - but then he realized what a dumb move that would be. Instead he stuck to his usual response. “It wasn’t a date!”

“Suuure,” she said, like she was doing Michael a favor by indulging in his very obvious lie. 

“Let’s just watch the fucking show,” he grumbled. Felix and his lover were chanting, magic was happening, Alessa’s feet lifting off the ground as she was imbued with her previously locked up demonic powers.

Suddenly the door to the house burst open, white light filling the room. Felix shouted to keep performing the ritual while he went to stop the angelic creatures from killing Alessa. Michael bit his lip at the crescendoing music, the flash cuts between Alessa and the ritual and Felix, fighting for their safety. It was touching, seeing how the once callous vampire had softened for her and Tyler, even rekindling his relationship with his ex. He had to make it to next season, right?  
Just as Alessa reappeared, channeling her powers to offer backup for Felix, he was struck down. 

“Oh shit!” he yelled, trying to ignore the urge to pace the room. The rest of the scene focused on the fight; Felix’s lover, Tyler, and Alessa managing to fight back the angels and put them down. Finally, once everything calmed, Felix’s lover ran to him, cradling in his arms. He had a gaping wound in his gut, blood dribbling from his mouth. They had struck him with holy weapons, so the whole ‘being immortal’ thing was evidently moot. 

“There might be more coming,” Felix coughed out. “You must go.” Alessa and Tyler looked at each other. “Hurry!” They held hands as they ran out of the house. 

Felix put a shaking, bloody hand up to his lover’s face. “I was hoping we’d get to hit the one month anniversary before this, but…” The other man was crying, holding Felix close.

“Damnit, Felix. I thought you didn’t care about anything, anyone - and - and you pull this shit.” 

Felix shrugged helplessly. “Guess I’m a changed man.” The other man crashed their lips together in a passionate embrace. 

“I love you,” the other vampire whispered. “Always.” 

Felix smiled, his own eyes shining with emotion, but he said nothing, and grew lax in the other’s arms, dead. 

It cut to commercial. 

“What the fuck,” Lindsay said. “He died? That’s so not cool.”

“He might come back next season?” Andy ventured. “I mean he is a vampire.”

“Yeah - Michael - are you crying?” 

Michael sniffled, wiping at his eyes. “No, I’m sweating.”

“From your eyes?”

“Shut the fuck up, Lindsay. Knew I shouldn’t have invited you.”

Andy patted him on the back. “Aw, it’s okay, Michael, I’m sure they’ll revive him when they run out of ideas.”

“Fuck you too, Andy,” he sniffed.

 

-

 

“Hey, Michael!” Michael looked up, a little miserable, a lot hungover. 

“Hey, Ryan,” he said. He tried to make his voice sound a bit more chipper, but he couldn’t dredge up the energy. It took enough gumption to get him up in the morning, sit through class, and show up to work on time. He couldn’t do much more than the absolute, scraping-the-bottom-of-the-barrel bare minimum. 

Ryan glanced around, but, typical to the time he showed up, there was hardly anyone in the shop, and no one behind him in line. He leaned forward. “Are you, um, okay?”

Michael inhaled, but he couldn’t even manage a placating reassurance to Ryan, either. “Not really,” he admitted. “Had a rough night.”

He had already saw his depressing visage in the mirror before leaving his dorm that morning. He hid his rumpled hair - that was pressed to one side of his head from how he passed out - under a beanie, but he looked paler than usual, his eyes were bloodshot and puffy. Between the crying during the show, and the drinking, and the lack of sleep because he was busy scrolling through his twitter feed and having a new crying session from all the new, depressing fanart that had cropped up. It was - pathetic. He knew it. But he couldn’t help it. Monstorum was his guilty pleasure - that he refused to feel any guilt about - and Felix had always been his favorite character. On top of the character being into women and men, that was the cherry on top. Seeing himself in someone on the screen. 

Even though Felix - and the rest of the show’s plot and characters - weren’t real, and he had Ryan right in front of him, he still couldn’t help the connection he had with Monstorum. 

Also he tended to get overly emotional when he was drunk, and he’d been stressed from classes for a long time, and he was just really, really bummed to see Felix bleed out on screen, and - he could feel his eyes prickling, and he pulled himself back to reality. 

Ryan was staring at him with a sympathetic expression, and he knew it was wish fulfillment, but it reminded him so much of the heartfelt expression Felix had given his lover as he died in his arms. Ryan was so beautiful, inside and out, on and off the screen, and fuck, it wasn’t fair. He was gonna lose it, if not today then eventually, and then he’d scare Ryan off forever, and then -

He sniffled again. “It’s nothing,” he said, voice cracking. He flushed with embarrassment. How fucking stupid -

“Oh, oh Michael, um,” Ryan paused a moment, before leaning over the counter and hugging Michael as best he could with the counter between them. Which wasn’t very well, but Ryan was warm, and his arms were around his back, his head pressed against Michael’s. “It’s okay,” he whispered in his ear. “I’m sorry, it’ll work out, I’m sure, whatever’s going on.” 

Michael selfishly hugged back. Ryan smelled really good. Something expensive. He breathed in the scent, calming himself at the same time. He barely held back a whine when Ryan pulled back, patting Michael’s arm. 

“Thanks,” he managed to say. “I - yeah, it’s - it’ll be okay, I’m just. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it made you upset,” Ryan said with a gentle voice. Michael shrugged, rubbing his eyes. “It’s not, I promise you I’ve cried over a lot of weird stuff.”

Michael wanted to argue that nothing was as weird as what  _ he  _ was upset about, but he didn’t want to argue. “I guess so, yeah.” He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “I’ll be fine tomorrow.” Once he slept in and got rid of his headache and avoided twitter for a while, he’d be back to normal. 

“You sure? It’s not - is it anything serious? Or - no, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want.” Michael shook his head.

“It’s nothing major, really. Just one of those things that gets you, you know? I’ll be okay.” He gave Ryan a smile. Ryan returned it.

“Do you work tomorrow? I usually don’t come in on Saturdays, but - do I need to check on you?” A customer asking when he was working was usually a major red flag, but Ryan had never been a typical customer, not to Michael, anyways. This was just one of those things he did. He probably did charity dinners and hospital visits in his spare time, too. 

“Thankfully no. I’m back Sunday. You don’t have to go out of your way for me.” 

“It’s no trouble,” Ryan said immediately, like it wasn’t any trouble at all. He glanced at his watch. “But I should probably go.” 

“Oh - don’t you want -”

“Nah, there’s coffee where I’m going. I just like yours better. See you later, Michael, feel better.” He shot him another heartwarming smile and darted out of the shop again. Michael was left staring dumbfounded - also because their conversation had left him without the energy to move unless absolutely necessary - until new customers came in.

-

 

That embarrassment came and went. Ryan did show up on Sunday, though, picking up his usual coffee and an apple turnover, and quietly asking if Michael was doing better. Michael was honest, said that he felt worlds better, and tried not to feel weird and creepy by the subject of his bad day, the thing that had so quickly called for Ryan’s concern. Things proceeded as normal after that. With little to look forward to in the television department he focused on the finals that were quickly approaching. Like usual, the end of the semester was practically thrown into his face, and all to soon he was walking to his Thursday shift, a few hours late due to an exam. 

So late in fact, it was around the time Ryan usually showed up. If he deigned to show up today (which was about an 80 percent affirmative).

He nearly ran into the damn guy trying to get into the coffee shop.  It was… very strange to see the man out on the street, clearly about to head into the store, when he sensed someone behind him and realized it was Michael.

“Oh! Hey,” Ryan greeted. He sent a surreptitious glance to the shop’s window, as if double checking Michael wasn’t already behind the counter.

He shifted the backpack on his shoulder, gave a little wave. “Hey Ryan.”

“Is it your day off?”

“Nah, had to go take a final.”

“How’d you think you did?” Michael shrugged.

“Hopefully good? Definitely passed, at least.” He expected Ryan to push the door open, but instead he walked back, leaning against the wall of the building. He was fidgeting with his hands. 

“Actually, maybe it’s good that I caught you here. I uh, didn’t wanna get into it while you were on the clock, but uh… can I have your number? Maybe?”

Michael blinked. “Uh, why?”

Ryan frowned. “So we could, uh, talk outside of the five minutes I get coffee every morning, and maybe we could get dinner, or something. Unless you don’t want to, or you’re busy, but we did that little coffee date thingy a while ago and I’ve finally got some free time so I just thought  -” Michael very clearly recalled Ryan’s promise to ‘get him next time’. He had thought that was just a polite thing to say. Not something he accidentally meant.

An icy feeling ran up his spine. What if Lindsay had been right all along? “No! No that’s - that’s fine. I just wasn’t actually expecting you to follow through on that.” 

“Why not?”

“I just thought you were… being nice?” 

Ryan let out an exaggerated breath of relief. “I mean I - I was. Because I like you, and I was trying to flirt with you, which, I know was kind of a dick move since you’re at work, but -”

“Oh my God, you really were flirting with me.” Michael leaned against the wall for support. “Holy shit.” Michael wasn’t sure how to process this. His stupid fantasies were somewhat based in reality now? Ryan liked him?  _ Lindsay  _ had  _ been right all along? _

“Is… I can’t tell if you’re happy or disgusted.”

“I’m - I just really didn’t think you saw me like that, I guess. But I - I’m happy. I think,” he said, a little hysterically. Somehow, in his decision to  _ not  _ be an obvious fanboy and creep Ryan out, he had somehow come across as - what? Cool? An attractive dating option? What the fuck. “Uh, I mean, there’s some shock still. I just - you’re really, um, attractive, and nice, and funny, and you know. All that good stuff.” Ryan laughed.

“Okay, good, I didn’t want to be some creepy customer.”

“No, no, definitely not. I always look forward to seeing you,” Michael admitted. He was definitely blushing.

“So do I,” Ryan admitted. He looked adorably shy. When he asked for Michael’s number again, he couldn’t find it in him to say no. It would have been easier to kick a dog, Jesus, he was too far gone for this man. 

The only thing that drew him back to reality was the fact that if Ryan was asking for his number - 

He’d have to show him his phone. Which still had that stupid, fucking embarrassing picture of  _ him  _ on his screen. He had only brought his laptop and a change of clothes in his bag, also, so he couldn’t even do the old school ‘write it on a piece of paper’ method.  _ Fuck. _ He slowly drew his phone from his pocket, then paused.

“I can put my number in your phone, actually,” he tried.

“My phone died,” Ryan said apologetically. “I was - work was, you know, crazy.”

“Oh,” he said. Great. Fucking great. In a panic, he quickly unlocked his phone and switched over to the contacts before Ryan brushed up against his shoulder. “Uh, here, what’s your -” Ryan took the phone from his hand before Michael could finish asking for his number. Michael sucked at improv, and try as he might to think of another solution that kept Ryan from seeing the shame on his phone, it wasn’t coming. But - that was fine. Ryan would just type in his info, and pass the phone back, and it would be fine. 

“I’m still not used to using iPhones,” Ryan commented, brows furrowed as his thumbs tapped on the screen. 

“Android guy, huh?” Michael said, trying to sound normal. 

“Hah, yeah. I just like it better. And then I use someone’s phone and I”m just like, where’s your back button? Okay, got it -” Ryan tapped out of the app and his eyes widened in surprise. Meanwhile, Michael wished the ground would just swallow him up and spit him out on the other side of the Earth. Or even better, it would just kill him, and he wouldn’t have to think about what a dumbass fucking idiot he was.

Ryan mutely lowered Michael’s phone. He could see, behind the displayed apps, Felix leaning against the door frame of his home from that premiere episode so long ago. 

“Um,” Michael said. His cheeks burned. “So, that’s, uh. I can explain.”

“I didn’t realize you were a fan of the show,” Ryan murmured. He hadn’t handed the phone back, was probably trying to figure out where the contacts app was so he could delete his number before Michael used it to stalk him or something, probably. 

“I - I didn’t realize you were flirting with me!” Michael shot back. Ryan gave him a befuddled look. “I just - you came in and I recognized you but I didn’t want to, like, draw attention to it, because I figured you had people bothering you on a regular basis and I didn’t want to fuckin’, weird you out or make you think that I was gonna mess with your drink orders or something.”

“I never would have thought that,” Ryan said. Michael waved his hand.

“I just thought, ‘it’s fine, I’ll just see him one time,’ but then you kept coming  _ back _ , so I couldn’t suddenly say I recognized you, because that would be even  _ weirder,  _ but you weren’t really a stranger - I mean you were, but I saw you on TV so it felt like I knew you, even though you’re totally different than the character you play on TV and I’m not projecting or anything, but it was like, easier to be nice with you? And talk to you when you came in and stuff. And you would, uh, talk back, and I didn’t realize it was like - you flirting with me till my coworker pointed it out because I didn’t want to be some crazy, deranged fan or something, and I never, ever thought you’d want to date some loser shithead student like me who took three years to get into a  _ state school  _ and might end up dropping out  _ anyway  _ and, I can delete your number and we can forget this ever happened and, I’m sorry, just - I’m sorry, please don’t be mad.” He sniffed, rubbing at his nose like the pathetic piece of shit he was.

“Michael, I’m not - I’m not mad,” Ryan said, “it’s okay.” 

“But - I lied to you, by omission or whatever. You thought I was a normal guy, not some deranged -” Ryan put a hand on his cheek, a thumb brushing under his eye. Michael stood, frozen. Ryan was touching him - his hands were soft, and warm. He looked so kind. Michael’s heart was pounding rapidly in his chest. He couldn’t take it. 

“You’re not crazy, Michael. You didn’t want to bother me while I was trying to get coffee, I can respect that. It’s not your fault that I thought you were cute and the coffee was good and I kept coming back.” Michael tried to smile, but couldn’t manage it.

“Do, you um, think we could still be friends, then?” That was so fucking stupid. Did actors even have friends? “Or, you don’t have to stop coming here, unless you want to, I get that.”

Ryan frowned, thumb still tracing Michael’s cheekbone. “Do you think we still shouldn’t date?” 

“Um,” Michael said intelligently. “What?”

“If me being, what, some celebrity crush or something - if that’s too much for you, if I’m too different from who I play on the show, I get that. I’m sure it’d be weird for me, too.”

Michael shook his head, only slightly, he didn’t want Ryan to pull away. “Why would a character on a dumb CW show be better than the real you? No offense to Monstorum, but -” he paused, searching for the words. “Well, you’re a full person, not… some dialogue on a script. Even if, uh, you know,  _ Felix  _ was my favorite, that relationship is pretty one-sided. This isn’t.” If even half the things Michael had written off as politeness were how Ryan showed his affection for him, well, he was already a better boyfriend than most of Michael’s past endeavors. 

“Yeah?” Ryan ventured. 

“I mean, it might take me a minute to not be starstruck, but I already had a lot of practice on reeling it in considering I saw you almost every day and you never suspected anything at all.”

“You’re not a bad actor yourself,” Michael smiled, bashful at the compliment. “So - is this weird, now?” Ryan asked, taking a step back to appraise Michael for a moment.

“It’s been weird. For me, at least. But it’s - it’s a manageable weird. We can make it work, I think. I imagine dating any actor has some level of weird.”

“I have dated other actors. And it is weird. And when I’m working I’m away a lot, and even when I’m not I get dragged in for stuff, and I probably care way more about my appearance than I should. But if that doesn’t scare you off…”

“No, it won’t.”

“That’s the spirit,” Ryan swung his arm like a way-too-peppy sports coach. Michael giggled. “I’m glad. I mean, even if you didn’t watch the show, I would’ve had to tell you I was an actor eventually. Maybe it’s better this way. If you like me on  _ this  _ show then you’ll probably tolerate any random project I go onto next.” 

“What can I say? I have famously low standards."

“Hey,” Ryan teased. Someone opened the door to the coffee shop and walked out. “...Maybe, uh, I should let you get to work?”

“Shit, yeah, um, yeah. I should probably - but you’ll, uh, I mean if you want to, I can -”

Ryan kissed his cheek. “Text me when you get out, I’ll answer,” he murmured, before pulling back. “Have a good day at work, Michael.”

“Thanks,” he managed to say. He watched Ryan walk down the street, his phone clenched in his hand. 

He clocked in, changed into his uniform, and went to work, all on autopilot. When he checked his phone, he found Ryan’s number. 

‘ _ Hey, it’s Michael. My shift ends at six,’  _ he typed out,  _ ‘If you wanted to go out somewhere?’  _ Was that allowed? Could he say that? He shoved his phone back into his pocket before he could freak out over it.

At the next drought in customers, he checked his phone again.  _ ‘We can go out for dinner around 7, anything you want. My treat.’  _ from an unknown number. He typed out a response on the sly before getting back to work, looking at the clock every chance he got.

Thursdays always seemed to drag on forever, didn’t they?


End file.
